


i wish i was next to you

by juhvaad



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Face-Fucking, Harry is in love, Infidelity, M/M, Pining Zayn, Rimming, all knowing louis, two boys with too many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juhvaad/pseuds/juhvaad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had lied to her, again. But Perrie was comfort, Perrie was convenient. Perrie was his father not looking down on him in shame for wanting to snog and hold hands with a mop of curly haired, green-eyed boy. Perrie was the paparazzi not giving him extra shit for dating a boy on top of the countless racism remarks he copped daily.</p><p>Zayn was petrified. He wouldn't cut things off with Perrie for the "maybe, could be, should be, would be" life he could have with Harry. </p><p>Alternatively: the one where Zayn is so in love he's a little lost, but eventually finds his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i think we're alone now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winkster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winkster/gifts).



> WELL this was a labour of love. it ended up being a lot longer than i had originally planned, but that's alright. i loved writing this, even though it caused me a lot of heart ache at numerous points.
> 
> written for the prompt: THE ANGSTIEST ANGSTY ZARRY FIC OF THEM ALL. A canon fic where Harry and Zayn are desperately trying to stop fucking but they C.A.N.T., not even when Perrie walks in on them at some point. Cue crazy hot guilty sex with tons of feelings, because they really should talk about Zayn's engagement and the effect of their relationship on the band and all of the other very important, pertinent things but they don't cause they keep hoping they'll just stop sleeping together and won't have to deal with the mess they've created. BUT THEN one of Louis' pranks goes terribly wrong (he gets in a LOT of trouble for this, like seriously they could have died and maybe they miss a concert or something?) and they end up trapped in a confined space together for hours and finally talk about it all. The ending can be whatever you choose - together? Not together? CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT.
> 
> and the prompt got away from me a little (read: a lot), but, winkster, i hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it. thanks!

Zayn had a feeling he probably should've stopped this thing with Harry the first time it happened. He probably shouldn't have started it all those years ago in the first place.

To be fair, Harry and Zayn had been silently skirting around each other for years - idle winks, subtle touches on stage, lingering stares - that had all been simmering away, boiling up to the point where Harry had Zayn on his knees for him backstage after that one show in Milan where Harry had declared shit about "doing Niall". Zayn had a point to prove, right? Right. 

That's how he found himself with saliva covering his chin, Harry’s cock pressed deep in his throat with a sloppy finger rubbing over his perineum. Zayn swore from that moment that, whilst they should probably never ever do that again, the slow build of Harry's whines towards his climax (of which Zayn dutifully swallowed, still having a point to prove) would be the resonating sound in his head every time he wanked for the rest of his life, most likely. 

So when Perrie walked in on them one day a month and a half later, this time with Harry balls deep in Zayn's arse, he probably should have rationalized it had gone too far. She had come to the hotel to surprise Zayn, leaving her own world tour behind, begging off a family emergency to see Zayn early. They’d probably adopt another pet to take home or something. 

Surprisingly, all she did was roll her eyes, flip her hair and walk back out the door whilst Harry barely slowed his thrusts enough to acknowledge her presence twice. 

Although Zayn stared at the door guilty after her departure, he couldn't dwell on it for very long when Harry flicked his wrist deliciously over Zayn’s cock. Harry had the tip of a finger over Zayn's slit silently begging him to come whilst he pounded into his prostate repeatedly, and Zayn couldn’t deny that it was one of the greatest orgasms of his life. 

Any trace of guilt disappeared when Harry bent him over after coming in his ass to eat him out nice and proper, chasing the taste of Zayn and his own load deep inside him, just the way Zayn liked. Just the way Perrie refused to do and couldn't do.

When it came to Harry, Zayn couldn't think about anything else, couldn't help but want want want him over and over again in every way he could get him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

"Soooo..... How's the missus?" Harry asked politely the next day. All the boys were on the bus, the day after a hotel night generally meant a day off for driving a stupid amount across a foreign country and, hopefully, stupid amounts of sleep for Zayn. 

Zayn tried to hide the blush that instantly crept onto his cheeks, because, why did Harry have to bring this up in front of all the boys? Granted, Niall and Louis were deeply immersed in an intense game of FIFA and Liam was sitting on the floor with Niall's guitar, humming to himself and scribbling down new lyrics for new songs. But they could still hear and no doubt would catch on to Zayn's discomfort. 

Plus, he didn't want to give Louis the undying satisfaction of knowing Perrie had caught Zayn and Harry doing "Butthole Banter" as Louis so childishly dubbed it. 

"Uh, haven't spoken to her yet. Don't particularly want to," Zayn sniffed, rubbing his face into the shoulder of his jumper (his jumper? Harry's jumper? Harry's probably), trying to evidently avoid the conversation. 

"You should call her to say hey, you know, be a good fiancée and all," Harry suggested in a seemingly level tone, but only Zayn could pick up on the twist of his lips and slight hiss on the end of his tongue when he mentioned "fiancée". Harry shrugged then, feigning nonchalance Zayn knew he never had, and sunk further back into the couch they were sharing. 

"Yeah, Zayn. I quite like Perrie. She’s a funny one, that girl. Hope you haven't gone and bollocks'd it all up, eh?" Louis chimed in from his place on the floor and Zayn could tell Louis knew something was up from the set of his shoulders and prickled determination in his eyes. 

"Would'a thought 'is bird was 'Arry with the way they mess about," Niall giggled, shoving his knee into Louis, looking for a laugh that was returned with a smirk and Louis’ signature eye roll whilst never looking away from the TV screen.

"Harry and Zayn, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N-" Liam started but was swiftly cut off when Zayn exited the bus, phone held within his sweater paw. So it was Harry's jumper, if the length and way it hung off of Zayn was anything to go by. 

Sometimes Zayn’s feelings got to be too much for him. Sometimes everyone's knowing eyes were too heavy. Cause Zayn was still engaged, was still calling Perrie's mum about flowers and wedding table settings when, distantly, Zayn felt that maybe he'd rather be talking about those things with Anne. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

"So, think you have some explaining to do," Perrie said coldly, prudently, on the other end of the line as a means of hello. Zayn deserved that, he guessed. Perrie was probably almost home in England now, probably didn't want to stay in America a moment longer after seeing her fiancée with a cock so far up his arse he could still feel Harry whenever he moved. 

Zayn could still see the bruises along his hips when he looked in the mirror, could still feel the way Harry had kissed him feverishly after he pulled out, as if he wouldn't want anything else in the world other than to kiss Zayn. 

Zayn wasn’t sure he wanted anything else, either. 

"Yeah, I guess I do," Zayn admitted, lighting up yet another cigarette. Perrie was quiet and withdrawn from saying anything, and Zayn knew he had to be the one to talk. "So. Um. Yeah, that happened. And I'm sorry you had to see that. But I uh. Like, I love you? And I'm sorry," he shakily inhaled again, exhaling through his nose just to feel the way the smoke burned, he knew that that ache was probably how Perrie had been feeling for the past 14 hours. 

" I know you love me, Zayn. But do you love Harry more? I see the way you look at him sometimes. I watch the interviews and fan footage from shows. It isn't hard to see," she said sadly. Zayn could here tears in her voice and knew they would shed soon, and he couldn't handle Perrie being upset. 

"No," Zayn quickly interjected, his hands shaking. He was getting the signal from the bus driver to jump back on, that they had to get moving again, but Zayn wasn't finished. "No Perrie, I love you, I proposed to you," he bowed his head in shame, his throat shivering on the next words he knew he had to say, knew Perrie wanted him to say. He kicked stray pebbles around the empty service station, trying to calm his thoughts. 

"Harry was just a way to, uh, to get off, y'know? Like you and Jesy do sometimes. When the time away gets too much and your own self gets bored of your hands and toys so you, like, need someone else, yeah?" and Zayn felt sick as the words tumbled out, knowing it wasn’t the truth. 

He had lied to her, again. But Perrie was comfort, Perrie was convenient. Perrie was his father not looking down on him in shame for wanting to snog and hold hands with a mop of curly haired, green-eyed boy. Perrie was the paparazzi not giving him extra shit for dating a boy on top of the countless racism remarks he copped daily.

Zayn was petrified. He wouldn't cut things off with Perrie for the "maybe, could be, should be, would be" life he could have with Harry. It was all too much. 

"Yeah, I get it babe. Not too long of a wait now," Perrie said, and her tone was completely back to normal, her accent no longer thick with unshed tears. Zayn felt his stomach twist and bile rise in his throat. 

"Yeah. Yeah, we can hangout when I'm back. We can do the fun stuff we like, like. Yeah. That's cool," he said, wanting to get back on the bus as swiftly as possible to sleep. 

"Bye, darling. Have fun for the rest of the day, okay? I love you, my man," Perrie said sweetly, ending the call. 

Zayn hadn't noticed his cigarette smoke down to the filter of its own accord, burning into the skin of his index finger. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Zayn didn't want to talk to anyone for the rest of the day. 

Zayn was good at that - at hiding away when he didn't want to face any of his responsibilities. And whilst he had reassured Perrie and told her he loved her, he silently wished he had been saying those words to Harry instead. He had loved Harry for so long now he didn’t know a single part of Harry he didn’t adore. 

Louis never lets him forget that one time he was in the Bus 1 shower, thinking he was alone and allowed to get a little loud whilst he got off. Zayn had never moaned as loudly or as much as he had that night - all breathy whimpers and long drawn out breaths with hitches of Harry's name thrown in. Louis had been a sniggering mess afterwards and, from then on, whenever he Zayn sneak off into his bunk with a fresh bottle of lube, iPad in hand to look up the porn he likes, Louis would always pinch his arm and mock his moans. Fucker.

When Zayn realised it was more than just lust, though, was when it became a problem. 

He no longer just wanted to smack Harry's ass behind closed doors because Harry loved a good spanking whilst he was getting fucked, he wanted to grip his bum playfully on stage in front of thousands of people with their cameras at the ready, tumblr blowing up shortly afterward. 

He didn't just want to card his fingers through Harry's hair whilst they snuggled in bed after hasty blowjobs, he wanted to braid his hair in the middle of Hyde Park in central London and watch their dog run around. 

When it came to Harry, Zayn wanted so much. It made him feel horrible when Zayn wanted as much as he did, because not only did it make him dream up a life with Harry, it made Zayn believe that Harry's lingering stares, gentle temple kisses and small smiles meant that he wanted the same things, too. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Zayn was happily napping in his bunk when he was suddenly, softly, being woken up. He was having a pleasant dream of himself and Harry exploring new kinks, and he was sporting an interested semi when he felt soft curls tickle at the underside of his jaw. 

It had been close to a week since Zayn had had Harry touch him the way he wanted and, honestly, Zayn was more than riled up. He and Harry tried to never go a day without even just a kiss, and Zayn was not only feeling sexually frustrated, he was also moody, on edge, constantly twitchy and chain smoking like a feign. His voice was scratching during their shows from the misuse.

But he was trying to avoid Harry. He was trying to keep a promise to Perrie he should have never broken. 

But Harry had clearly picked up on being avoided, being the ever sensitive and perceptive boy he always had been. Harry hated it when anyone ignored him, especially Zayn. 

"Hiii, is it okay if I say I've missed you this past week? Am I allowed to say that?" Harry questioned, sounding so genuine it near broke Zayn's heart. 

"You've just missed a warm mouth and willing body, Haz," Zayn corrected sleepily, trying to turn over and place as much space between he and Harry as the tiny bunk would allow. He felt a little vulnerable being in front of Harry in just his sweat pants. 

"No, that's not what I've missed at all, actually," Zayn could hear the frown in his voice, knew his eyebrows were furrowed and lips pouted. It made Zayn want to kiss him without even looking. 

"Mmmmm. What you wan'?" Zayn just wanted to go back to sleep. Avoid more of his problems. 

"Well, I want you to tell me what I've done wrong to make you avoid me for over a week, and then I want to kiss you, lay you out and have you fuck my throat to the point where I won’t be able to sing right tomorrow night," Harry said without missing a beat, one of his hands cupping Zayn's bare hip. 

Zayn felt like he was on fire, even from those few simple words. Harry had said much dirtier things in their time together, but Zayn had never been this needy for Harry before. His whole body ached for him. 

"Sounds good't me, mate, but maybe some other time, yeah? It's nap time." Zayn couldn't breathe with Harry so close, he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t remember what he was trying to promise Perrie in the first place.

“Zayn,” Harry was full out whining now, his fingertips kneading into the flesh of Zayn’s hipbones, just the way he liked. Zayn had to inhale deeply through his nose to try and stop from pushing his arse back into Harry’s crotch.

“Harry, lay off it, yeah? I’m engaged. I can’t keep fucking her over like this, it isn’t fair,” Zayn closed his eyes tightly, willing Harry to leave him be for just a moment. 

He was given no such luck. Harry simply moved so he was breathing on the back of Zayn’s neck, leaving feather light touches of his lips to the skin over his neck and shoulders. Harry was determined when he sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of Zayn’s neck, skilful with his fingers snaking around Zayn’s bare stomach to play with the hem of his joggers.

“Zayn, lay off it, yeah? It’s never been an issue for me, you know that,” Harry muttered into his neck, even though Zayn knew it had been, always would be. He knew the way Harry looked to a T whenever Perrie and the engagement were brought up in an interview. “Besides, she can’t do the things you like the way that I can. And if you, as you so aptly said, are fucking her over, you may as well be getting fucked,” he added, and Zayn felt Harry’s smirk rather than saw it.

And Zayn was so thoroughly fucked. So thoroughly fucked in the moment and so thoroughly fucked for this boy.

Harry quickly flipped Zayn over, the hand over his hip tugging his body closer to Harry’s so their hips were flush. The cramped bunk made it difficult for Harry to clamber on top of Zayn, but he eventually managed to slot himself between Zayn’s thighs. 

When Harry kissed Zayn properly; their eyes were open until the last second, something that always haunted Zayn, the way that Harry liked to watch how badly Zayn wanted him before he gave it up. Zayn couldn’t help the little whine at the back of his throat. He had been so desperate for Harry’s touch for so long, even though it wasn’t that long at all, in theory. 

Zayn could physically feel the knots and kinks in his muscles ease themselves out whilst Harry licked over his lower lip, sucking gently before gliding his tongue along Zayn’s. 

Zayn was in a state by the time Harry had begun to rut down against him, his hips working in slow, smooth circles over Zayn’s cock. Zayn could feel Harry fattening up in his jeans whilst Zayn’s joggers begun to show a small yet distinguishable wet patch in the front. Zayn was making a mess of Harry’s curls, his fingers tugging and twisting on them to try and ground Harry’s mouth to his own. 

Zayn was breathless as Harry pulled away, allowing time for them to catch their breath as he worked his way down Zayn’s throat, nipping and sucking away on his caramel skin, tarnishing it with a colour all of Harry’s own. Harry knew not to leave any marks in visible spaces, lest they get into more shit with PR and Perrie and the other lads. 

As soon as Harry was at Zayn’s collarbones, he audaciously bit into the skin there, marring the ink of a wing with a love bite. Zayn couldn’t help the deep groan at the back of his throat, his hips bucking up quickly to seek out more friction to give him some release. Harry just placed more weight on him, grounding Zayn to the bunk. 

When Harry reached Zayn’s nipples and sucked them into his mouth, Zayn knew he couldn’t keep up the façade of ignoring Harry anymore. He couldn’t go back to having days where he didn’t get to have Harry’s lips mapping out his skin, as if he hadn’t done it 100 times over already. Zayn craved Harry like nothing he’s ever craved before – never wanted coffee so badly, never wanted nicotine so badly, never wanted a hit of weed so badly. 

Harry gave him a feeling that was so good Zayn wanted to bottle it and shoot it up every time he needed it. 

Zayn was sure his brain had short circuited when Harry made his way to Zayn’s joggers. Harry couldn’t of been comfortable – the bunks weren’t very long, so Harry was hunched over Zayn’s crotch, his limbs a tangled, orchestrated mess over the bed – but they made it work. Zayn couldn’t help the frantic, shallow thrusts his hips were making of their own admission when Harry licked and bit into his happy trail, staring up at Zayn to keep a level of intimacy only Harry Styles could manage when about to give a blow job.

Harry tugged his sweatpants down with his teeth, just low enough so that Zayn’s hard cock could land flush against his belly, the cool air sending a copious amount of shivers along his spine. Zayn felt shivers for a complete other reason when Harry enclosed his lips around the head of his dick, Harry humming low in the back of his throat whilst his tongue swirled the head. 

Zayn’s hips bucked up harshly, causing his cock to slip deeper into Harry’s mouth easily. Not enough to gag, but enough to shock Harry into opening his eyes and grinning around Zayn’s dick.

“So you do wanna fuck my throat, eh?” Harry chuckled, his voice growing raspier whilst he jacked Zayn off lightly. Zayn just nodded, a pathetic mewl in the back of his throat making itself known to Harry when he curled his fingers tightly around the base of Zayn’s cock and bit at the insides of Zayn’s thighs.

Harry hummed in assent, moving back in to mouth at the head of Zayn’s dick before swallowing him down. Harry willingly gagged, his throat muscles flexing around Zayn’s length. Harry looked up to Zayn with tears in his eyes, the hands that were holding Zayn’s hips down now moving to the back of his thighs, encouraging him to do the work. Zayn started with slow, shallow thrusts of his hips, never looking away from Harry to make sure he was okay. 

And Harry was more than okay. He moaned encouragingly when Zayn fisted his curls in his hands, simultaneously tugging Harry’s mouth further down onto his dick whilst Zayn bucked his hips up into the wet heat of Harry’s mouth. 

Harry was sly when he rubbed a finger into the growing pool of saliva around the base of Zayn’s cock only to trail it down Zayn’s balls to rub at his hole. He applied a slight pressure, pushing into him just slightly, and Zayn pushed his cock balls deep into Harry’s mouth. Harry spluttered but moaned deeply, his throat constricting around Zayn’s cock as saliva flowed from his mouth. 

Harry pulled off abruptly, bypassing the strength Zayn was holding to the crown of his head to ease back onto his knees. 

“Changed my mind, I wanna make you come from eating you out,” he decided, a nod of finality to it when he wiped the back of his mouth on the corner of Zayn’s bed sheets.

“There’s no space, mate, you couldn’t do that comfortably without straining your neck,” Zayn reasoned, albeit a bit weak of a protest.

“Zayn, I wanna eat you out and make it so good you think about it for days when you go on your next avoidance spree,” Harry mumbled, his voice soft as he tugged Zayn’s pants off the rest of the way and threw them to the bus floor. “Which is fine, yeah, I guess. But let me do this, man, I want to.” Harry drawled, his thumbs rubbing into the lines of Zayn’s hips.

That was all Zayn needed to turn onto his front and bend into the pillows on his bed. Harry kissed the base of his spine first which made Zayn sigh out in pleasure. Harry spread Zayn’s ass cheeks apart with his hands, opening Zayn up to him as he placed a swift spank to the left cheek of Zayn’s ass. 

Zayn whimpered pathetically at the burn it left behind, dulled when Harry took a languid lick over the cleft of his ass and across Zayn’s hole. He groaned, pushing into the pillows beneath him as Harry moaned from his own pleasure of licking Zayn out. 

When Harry begun to stiffen his tongue and press into Zayn’s hole, Zayn couldn’t stop himself from wrapping a fist around himself to wank off. He jerked himself off quickly, the feeling of Harry sloppily licking into him made Zayn feel overwhelmed. 

“Babe… ca-can you. Like, spank me again, maybe?” Zayn asked breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow he was pressing his face into. Harry moaned so loudly at the request, his tongue wiggling inside Zayn like a “yes”.

Harry spanked him again, this time on the other cheek, and the stimulation was almost too much. Zayn’s hand around his own cock with Harry licking into him whilst spanking him was a feeling he wasn’t used to, but always wanted. 

On the next spanking, Harry slipped his tongue out of Zayn’s hole to gently graze his teeth around the rim, causing Zayn to moan loudly and rub off on the doona beneath him.

“God, Harry, another one, please. I’m so close,” Zayn begged Harry at that point, he was so close to coming it was aching, his stomach coiled up so tightly it felt like it could never be undone. 

Harry spanked him again, this time a finger slipping into Zayn’s hole along with the wet pressure of Harry’s tongue, and Zayn came over his hand with a loud sob pushed into a pillow. He spilled over his fist and onto the sheets, but he didn’t have the capability to care at that point in time. 

Harry eased him through it. He gently took Zayn’s hand off of his cock whilst he lapped at Zayn’s fluttering hole, working him through his orgasm until Zayn was hissing at the sensitivity. Harry pulled away, pressing a kiss to each of Zayn’s spank-heated ass cheeks. Harry helped Zayn turn over and lay on his back. His limbs felt like butter and Zayn thought he couldn’t have moved without the assistance.

When Harry beamed down at him when Zayn finally came back to himself, Zayn knew he wouldn’t want to see anything else but Harry’s smiling face whenever he came down from an orgasm. (Or when he woke up from a nap or padded into the kitchen to make a snack or came back into the bus from a smoke. He always wanted to see Harry’s silly boyish grin aimed at him, his entire face lit up with happiness. Because of Zayn).

“Well, that was something,” Harry said softly. Zayn could see the hard outline of his cock in his jeans and he reached for Harry’s hips whilst he nodded.

“No, I don’t want to at the moment, Zayner. This was about you getting off and easing your tension, not me.” Harry said as he grabbed his shirt and wiped Zayn down with it. Harry hopped down easily from the bunk onto the bus floor and peered inside, making sure Zayn was okay.

“But… I want to take care of you too, Harry, don’t be silly.” Zayn protested, but Harry just shook his head and smiled at Zayn.

“It’s fine, babe. Go back to your nap now,” he finished, pulling the blankets on Zayn’s bunk up over his naked body (and Harry had the wonderful decency to try and avoid the come soaked patches from touching Zayn).

As Harry silently kissed him on the forehead and slipped out of his bunk, Zayn felt the weight he had perceived to be lifted before crash back down on him tenfold. His stomach was heavy, his shoulders tense.

And yet, despite the guilt of yet again doing Perrie wrong, Zayn was only thinking about when he and Harry would get the luxury of a hotel night to properly be together. 

 

~ ~ ~ 

 

In all honesty, Zayn wasn’t entirely sure what it was about him that kept Harry coming back. 

Harry could literally have his pick and choose of anyone in the world, it seemed. When the boys had their various nights out, scoping out local clubs of whatever new city they were in, people bent over backwards for Harry just to look at them, give them a fraction of his time. They’d go to even more extreme lengths to try and seduce him and get him into their bed. But Harry would always politely decline, give them a tremendous smile, and by the end of the night climb into bed beside Zayn without fail. 

Zayn couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when friendly cuddles in a shared hotel room became a desperate need to be close to each other. It wasn’t always even for the endless lust they shared. It was a mutual dependence and unwillingness to be alone. 

So when Zayn heard the shrill ring of his phone one morning as opposed to the usual weight of Harry crawling into the hotel bed behind him, he was a little put off.

“Haz… babe, do you know what time it is? M’ sleeping, you should be too,” Zayn groaned, half his face pushed into the pillow to promptly fall back asleep, with or without Harry drunkenly slurring down the line.

“You’re pushing me away again, you know…… I was fine with it at first, it’s okay you have a fiancée, whatever,” Harry sniffed, his words flowing together and Zayn could hear just how intoxicated he was. Harry abruptly swore, a brief ‘sorry’ following it – he must’ve bumped into someone (or something, knowing Harry’s perchance for apologising to inanimate objects). “But I wish you’d choose me sometimes. You know how I feel, Zayn, I like….. make it pretty clear. And you like me too, I make you happy, so what the fuck are we doing?”

Zayn’s muscles tightened uncontrollably at that, and if he had wanted to go back to sleep, there was no possibility of it now. Harry was softly sniffling - Zayn knew he must have been crying or close to it - and if making Perrie upset was one thing, making Harry upset was a total other one. 

Zayn could hear Louis and Niall cackling loudly near Harry, could hear how they were most likely jumping all over each other and pressing messy, open mouthed kisses to each others cheeks like the overly affectionate drunks they were.

Zayn wanted to be drunk too, in that moment. He wanted to forget that he’d spent the last week yet again avoiding Harry, despite his entire being depressed from it.

“Harry…. I’m….. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I’ve known you longer Zayn, I’ve known you for so long it feels like I’ve known you my whole life, but you still go home to her. I want you to come home to me sometimes. No fuck that, not sometimes, all the time,” Harry admitted, his sentences growing sloppier and dopier the longer they talked.

“Harry…. Just come back to the hotel, go to bed, there’s no reason for this, mate.”

“Don’t ‘mate’ me when I’m not your mate, Zayn,” Harry said with a voice of finality Zayn could never muster whilst intoxicated.

“Yeah…. Yeah alright. I’ll see you whenever you’re here Haz.”

And with that, Zayn hung up, having never felt so bruised and emotionally drained after a phone call before.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Uncharacteristically, Zayn left his own hotel room that night to be with Liam. Liam rarely went out with the boys whenever they went on their little expeditions. He preferred staying in to Skype with Sophia, tell her he loved her and missed her and couldn’t wait until he was home. 

Just like what Zayn should be doing. Though, he’s noticed, that whilst he’d been ignoring and avoiding Harry, he’d been doing the exact same to Perrie. Only ever sending her brief messages about his whereabouts and how he was when she messaged him first. 

Zayn was up for fiancée of the year award.

“Zayn, mate, it’s so fudging late,” Liam said woozily as Zayn crawled into his hotel bed behind him, shoving his cold toes into the arc of Liam’s foot. “Jesus, you’re cold, couldn’t you have had your midnight fag out the window? You didn’t have to go outside for that.”

“I think I love Harry, Liam, and not in a bro way like it is with the rest of you. I think he has me doubting everything with Perrie to the point where I don’t want something with her anymore, I want it with him,” Zayn let out in a rush, his face pressed into Liam’s back to ground him. 

Liam just laughed. Body shaking, deep chest chuckles, and it stunned Zayn. He coiled back in on himself, thinking he said something stupid.

“Well thank goodness you’ve come around then, hey? It took you a while. Is this why you’re here?” Liam asked, his breathing evening out once more, his hands grabbing for Zayn’s in the dark to keep him close.

“Fuck off man, what do you mean I’ve finally come around? I always knew I loved him, but not to the point of leaving Perrie for it. That’s a lot of commitment. You know how it’d be for me,” Zayn felt ill saying it out loud, remembering what the kids at school called him once they found out he’d rather kiss boys over girls. Zayn remembered how the press had blown up that one time Zayn took a guy home from the club and he was so intoxicated, he didn’t even think about the paps that could have seen him whilst he snogged the guy senseless waiting for a car. Zayn shivered at the memories, at the words that were thrown at him without a second thought afterwards.

“It’s not the same as before, Zayn. This is Harry. Harry loves you, we love you. This isn’t some random guy from a club you’ll never see again. It won’t end badly. Yeah, things with Perrie will be shitty, but if this is what you want and you’re sure of it, you need to go with it Zayn. You need to do something for yourself, not what someone expects you to do to keep up appearances. When else do you get the chance to make yourself happy? Go be content, little one,” Liam was wise for a man half asleep. He squeezed Zayn’s hands within his own when he felt Zayn shake from nerves. “Everything is going to be okay, in the end,” he said finally, drifting back to sleep.

Zayn repeated that last sentence in his head until it stuck there, allowing him to relax and fade into dreams that weren’t addled by his fears.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Louis was becoming increasingly daring on stage as the tour wound to a close. He was always trying to pull new pranks, always trying to rile everyone up in new ways to keep things fun. Louis was prone to becoming bored easily. 

It happened like this:

Liam was running down the ramp from the band onto the catwalk when he slipped in the soap Louis had squirted out through his water gun, making the stage dangerously slick. Louis had cackled with delight as he watched Liam lose his balance, flail his limbs about before inevitably falling on his ass.

It was then that Harry decided to waltz around backwards, pulling some ridiculous dance moves for the fans to adore him over, and Zayn felt sick as he watched Harry walk towards Liam, his feet slipping and an unsuspecting Harry falling back onto the stage, hitting his head before laying still over Liam’s legs.

The band stopped playing, the boys stopped singing, the fans stopped screaming and everyone ran to Harry.

Zayn got to him first. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Thank fucking God,” Louis groaned, falling back into his hospital chair directly next to Harry’s bed. Harry looked dazed whilst he woke up and he looked so damn beautiful Zayn could cry.

So he did, just a little bit. He sniffled it into Harry’s neck, even though Harry still looked confused.

“Why am I in the hospital? Was this when I fell over on stage?” Harry questioned softly, clearing his throat, annoyed when his voice faded in and out of speech. He reached his fingers out to squeeze Zayn’s hand, both in reassurance and in question.

“Ya hit ye’ead pretty hard, mate, sent all of us into a right fright,” Niall supplied, running his fingers through Harry’s hair. Zayn glared at him when he pushed Zayn’s own fingers not occupied by holding onto Harry out of place, Niall sending him a soft smile as way of apology.

“My legs apologise for getting in your way,” Liam said sheepishly from the other side of the room, his cheeks tinted pink with how bashful he was – Zayn knew Liam partially blamed himself for what happened to Harry, it was part of who Liam was and who he was set out to be in the band. He was the protector, someone to look out for all the boys whenever they needed it. Liam probably felt like he had part in Harry’s concussion, which was bullshit. Zayn scowled at Louis when he remembered the ludicrous prank.

“So…. Like….. what actually happened?” Harry asked, looking to Zayn for answers as opposed to anybody else (that may be because Zayn was in his bed, curled up against him in the tight space and was closest to him. But they were used to tight spaces by now, the two of them). 

“Well,” Louis started, clearing his throat, and Zayn was mildly pleased that he was taking responsibility for his actions. Zayn was also glad nobody was making him talk. He needed to reassure himself that Harry was okay, needed to be in his personal space and crowd in against him. 

“I may have coerced one of our dear security members into allowing me to take a water gun onstage. But there wasn’t water in the gun, it was some bubble solution I was going to give to the twins when I got home from tour. But I was bored, and you were the pit of my fun on stage. You suffered a bit of a concussion, wouldn’t wake up for a while, but you’re here now! That’s what counts!” Louis shrugged in classic Louis nonchalance, and if Zayn had of known better he would’ve gotten off the bed and punched him in the arm. 

Louis added a “sorry, pal” when Liam shot him an arched brow in question, as if to say “that’s all you have to say, then?” Zayn was pleased Liam beat him to it. Zayn wouldn’t have been so polite about it.

Harry might’ve been awake, but Zayn had watched him black out and vividly remembered it. Harry had a distinguishable bump on the back of his head and his eyes were blinking in and out of focus as he tried to pay attention to what was being said. Even though Harry was barely lucid, he kept pushing his head into Zayn’s hand where he was absently scratching along Harry’s scalp.

“Yeah… okay that’s cool,” Harry shrugged, his eyes drooped closed with tiredness, his brain and body obviously feeling the exhaustion seeping into him. Harry snuggled closer into Zayn, his breath puffed out along his collarbones and warmed Zayn from head to toe. Zayn couldn’t hold back his smile as he cradled Harry in close to him

“Hey Zayn, you know what, you should sort your shit out, yeah? You can’t keep being his knight in shining armour, complete with a great cock, when you have a woman waiting for you at home, don’t you reckon?” Louis piped up, seemingly out of nowhere once it was apparent Harry was asleep and the room fell relatively silent. The rest of the room was still.

Liam pointedly coughed at Niall and the two silently exited the room. They called out orders for coffee after them as they left Louis to grill Zayn. 

“I saw how you looked at him when he fell, Zayn. I saw how you looked at Perrie that one time she twisted her ankle on stage. You care for Harry more than her and you know it, you know it’s unfair to sit here with him and act like his boyfriend when you’re not.” Louis concluded, his face set icily where he was sat back in his chair. 

“It’s not that easy, Lou. I can’t just up everything to have something with him. What if he gets sick of me? What if things get bad with the press again? You know I can’t do that…” Zayn trailed off, his eyes were cast down to stare at Harry blissfully asleep against him. 

“You know we won’t let that happen again, mate. Plus, he’s put up with you and your temperamental shit for four years,” Louis’ eyes had softened some as he stared at Zayn and Harry fondly. “You’ve come far enough to work it out the rest of the way.” 

Zayn just nodded and knew for the hundredth time that Louis Tomlinson was right. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

When Harry was released the next day from the hospital (they kept him in overnight and had claimed that they had to check his blood and make sure he had completely come to himself before letting him leave, though Zayn suspected the nurses just liked having someone as beautiful and famous as Harry Styles in their midst), Zayn was avoiding him again. But for completely different reasons.

He needed to talk to Perrie, sort his shit out, come clean, all those things r&b greats sung about in their songs.

Zayn was hyper aware of his thoughts and feelings as he waited for Perrie to answer her phone. He hadn’t smoked through half of his cigarettes, he hadn’t pulled out his hair, he hadn’t kicked rocks around as means of distraction. He was calm when he leant on the side of the bus. He stared at the clouds shift above him and had wished for a pen and paper whilst waiting the few shrill rings of his phone until Perrie picked up with a cheerful “hey, babe.”

“Perrie, listen, we need to talk.” Zayn started and his fingers started to shake. Zayn didn’t exactly know how to go about calling things off with his fiancée because he was in love with somebody else, but he refused to back down. It wasn’t a situation Zayn ever wanted to find himself in again.

“I know, Zayn. Just get it out, okay?”

Zayn sucked in a breath of cold air before he continued. 

“Yeah. Yeah, alright. I can’t keep doing this to you, I can’t keep doing it to myself. I need to, like, I don’t know. I just know this isn’t what’s good for me anymore. I can’t keep feeling guilty for something that’s not working. And I hate doing this to you, yeah? I hate doing it to myself, but you, mostly. I don’t want to keep hurting you. You need better than that,” Zayn rushed out, trying to push through all the words and thoughts in his head as quickly as he could before he forgot something. Perrie just sighed down the other end.

“I want you to be happy, Zayn. I want that for both of us. You’ve been a right dick about it, I’ll have you know, and I feel quite hard done by, but I do deserve better, and so do you. You should be happy, Zayn, and I know you aren’t happy with me.” This time, Perrie wasn’t on the verge of tears, she didn’t scream or yell like she could have. She was level headed.

“I’m sorry to have done this over the phone, but we still have a couple shows in America before we get home, and you know how hard this would’ve been for me in person. I’m too scared to hurt you, Per,” Zayn admitted, his voice soft, his eyes stung just a little. “I love you… you know. Ever since you were on the X Factor and you thought I was a knob.” He heard Perrie giggle through the phone, and it was a relief for him to know she hadn’t been hurt too badly.

“Yeah, well, you were. Still are, aren’t ya?” she teased, sighing for a moment before her voice grew small. “We’ll have to meet up when you’re home, sort out our stuff, give back the ring and whatever. Maybe down the track you’ll make an honest man out of Harry Styles.” Zayn spluttered at how easily she flicked the switch back to teasing him, not sounding the slightest bit malicious when she had said it.

“God, Per, please. Keep a lid on it, yeah? We’ll see if anything happens there at all. I’m sorry we did this to you. Harry is sorry as well, yeah, I know he is. We never meant for it to happen, never meant for it to get out of hand. It just kind of…. did.”

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry, pet. Let’s not worry over this anymore, I felt this coming on for a while, and now it’s here, I kind of just want to sleep,” she laughed nervously and Zayn could hear her shuffling her feet over the ground outside. Zayn didn’t want to keep her any longer than was necessary; he knew that she had probably been hurting from all the months of build up and tension.

“I’ll see you sometime, Per. Stay well, okay?” 

“I always do, Zayn. You too,” she promised.

And with that, Zayn felt as if the world was off his shoulders.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Louis sent daggers Zayn’s way when he stepped back onto the bus, not caring that Zayn had had what was probably one of the most important phone calls of his life. Harry was spread out over the couch, his head in Niall’s lap and his feet kicked up over Louis. His eyes were shut, Niall gently humming a song to him as he rested. It sent a twinge of jealousy through Zayn, if he were being honest.

“So how’d that go, then?” Louis questioned, his arms crossed over his chest, jostling Harry’s feet slightly, but not enough to wake him up. Louis knew Zayn was on the phone to Perrie without even having to tell him. Louis just knew. Louis always knew.

(Like that time after one of their X Factor performances when Louis came up to Zayn and nudged his ribs to tell him he’d been watching Harry on stage a little more than what was friendly. Louis knew Zayn loved him even before Zayn did). 

“It went well, it’s over now, and it’s okay. I feel a little weird, to be perfectly honest. Like, at some point I proposed to her, I thought we’d work it out. But in time I want to ask Harry about how he feels and at some point I want to take him home to meet my family and have a life with him,” Zayn puffed, his thoughts were tumbling and jumbling around with little brain to mouth filter.

“Jesus, mate, you’re both jus’ lads, stop steam rollin’ ahead, let it plan out as it will,” Niall chuckled, the action caused Harry’s head to softly bounce along his abdomen. Zayn nodded, Louis was happy, and Harry was sniffling in and out of the edges of sleep. 

Zayn felt content for what must have been the first time in a long time.

“You’re braver than you think, you know. You’re a good kid, Zayner,” Louis said, his eyes showing nothing but sincerity. Zayn felt his own eyes start to water when he nodded, his face downcast so nobody saw just how much that meant to him. “We’re here for you every step of the way, okay? Nobody is going to bring you down like last time.” Louis swore. 

Zayn grabbed for Louis’ shoulders and pulled him into a tight one-armed hug as Niall looked on, his face fond when he blew Zayn a kiss and ushered him off the bus to go into the hotel. They had both known Zayn needed some peace and quiet with luxuries the bus couldn’t provide. Like a proper bed, long bath and no dirty underwear on the floor.

When Louis tuck a neatly rolled joint behind Zayn’s ear and felt Niall slip his hotel key into his back pocket, Zayn swore nobody knew him better than his boys, not even himself.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Zayn was laid back on his hotel bed in just his boxers, the unlit joint Louis gave him between his lips when Harry came barging through his door, his curls askew and his balance off kilter as he tripped over his own feet. Zayn couldn’t help but smile around the filter.

“I wasn’t asleep, on the bus. I could hear you, I heard what you said, about wanting a life with me and stuff,” he pushed his curls off of his face and walked towards Zayn. Zayn felt like he had melted into the bed, unable to move even if he wanted to. Cause Zayn knew this was the moment where they’d sort out all their feelings and issues, and Zayn was just in his boxers about to smoke a joint. 

It was hardly as romantic as Zayn had planned. 

“And I love you, Zayn, I love you so much. I love the way you speak faster when you’re nervous and the way your voice sounds. I love the taste of your mouth after you smoke and I love you enough to understand you do it to calm down and I love you enough to not ask you to quit, even though I hate smoking. I love your stupid tattoos and your unwavering love and loyalty for us boys. I think I’m in love with every single part of you and I haven’t ever not been,” Harry talked at an unusually fast pace for his standards, his words were crashing together as if he couldn’t wait any longer to say them, as if they’d been bubbling under the surface of his tongue for a long time.

Zayn couldn’t help but smile as he felt the blush grow on his cheeks from hearing how Harry felt out loud. He beckoned for Harry to join him on the bed, wanting to be closer together and get rid of the space between them. Harry willingly obliged. He clumsily toed off his shoes as he crawled up the bed and into Zayn’s lap, straddling his hips. 

Zayn ran his fingers over the slivers of skin showing on Harry’s hips and felt how warm, solid and his Harry was.

“You know it’s the same for me, yeah? And I would have started something with you two and a half years ago, after that first hasty blowjob backstage, if I wasn’t such a terrified twit,” Harry frowned at that, about to interject, but Zayn hushed him. “I was scared of what people would think, how I’d be labelled and what my family would say. So I stuck with what I knew and what I thought would work for me. But it didn’t. I want to be with you and I’m not scared anymore.” Zayn confessed softly, his eyes trained on Harry’s. “I know I’m in love with every single part of you, there’s nothing here I would want to change.”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had an ultimatum, like you had to pick between me and her. I never…. I never meant for that. I just never wanted anyone else but you, Zayn. And that scares me. I’ve never felt like that before about anyone.” Harry trembled gently in Zayn’s lap as his fingers scratched down Zayn’s chest delicately.

Zayn shook his head, reaching for Harry’s hands to twine their fingers together on his chest. “I think that it was always you, Harry. Nobody else, yeah?” Zayn whispered.

Harry’s lower lip wobbled as he nodded, his eyes full of adoration when he leant in to brush his lips over Zayn’s. 

“You really mean it? I’m yours this time? To have and to hold forever and all that?” Harry inquired, his eyes doe-like in the dim light of Zayn’s hotel room. 

They were so close, that when Zayn smirked and nodded and told Harry that he was indeed his, their lips met properly for a kiss that felt like a first time, but certainly wasn’t a last.


	2. loving you is easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry was a mess when Zayn thumbed over one of his nipples, his other hand making quick work of the button on Harry’s jeans and pulling the fly. Zayn absently noted that Harry had gone commando, something he hadn’t realised earlier when they were in the car. To show how much he approved of the action, Zayn leant away from Harry’s mouth to bite at his nipple, first sucking one into his mouth and applying slight pressure with his teeth before moving to the other. Harry was bucking uselessly into the space between them, his cock flushed and leaking pre come obscenely onto his stomach. 
> 
> Or: Zayn and Harry have three month anniversary sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally just an extra piece of smut i wrote with bits of fluff thrown in for the heck of it. enjoy!

EPILOGUE: numerous months later

 

One of the best things about being out with Harry to the public was not only the fact that Zayn got to smack his bum in front of thousands of fans with camera phones, or the possibility of getting a dog sooner rather than later together, it was the fact that Zayn felt like himself. 

Every note he sung was pure, every line of a new song he wrote was heartfelt, every smile felt more genuine. Harry lit Zayn up in such a way that nobody else could. And when Zayn stared at Harry sometimes, he saw that Zayn had the exact same effect on him. 

Whilst they complimented each other in every possible way, that connection naturally carried on to their sex life as well. They always had the element of lust, but now that they were open about their relationship and were in love (disgusting, whenever Harry coined the term “making love” Zayn had to hide his grimace. But, he supposes, that’s exactly what they were doing), it felt like everything had fallen into its rightful place.

Tonight was their official three month anniversary, and whilst Zayn wasn’t really one for remembering important dates and celebrating them, he felt like three months was a pretty big deal. 

That’s how he wound up taking Harry out to dinner to their favourite restaurant, hidden away in a secluded booth with Zayn’s hand rubbing slow circles into Harry’s inner thigh through his dark jeans. Harry was trying to peruse the menu, even though he knew exactly what he wanted when he found out where Zayn was taking him, but he tried to keep himself calm.

Harry was a twitching, on-edge mess by the time their meals arrived, but as soon as Zayn cupped a hand around his fattening cock in his jeans, Harry politely asked for the cheque for the meal he had yet to finish and was pulling Zayn out the front door within minutes.

“But I was meant to pay for our dinner, baby,” Zayn pouted as Harry drove, speeding down the freeway in hopes of getting to their flat sooner. “I like watching you get flustered for me in public places,” Zayn admitted, reaching over the centre console of the car to undo Harry’s fly.

“Jesus, Zayner, are you out to kill the both of us? If you touch my cock I won’t –“ his sentence was cut off when Zayn not only pulled out Harry’s dick and gripped the base tightly, but moved over the barrier between them to bend down and lick at the tip of his cock. The low moan Harry let out was obscene.

Zayn hummed happily around the tip, licking up the pre-come that had already collected there from when Zayn had been teasing Harry at the restaurant. Zayn could see Harry’s knuckles turning white from where he was gripping the steering wheel tightly and Zayn smirked to himself as best he could with a mouthful of dick. He took Harry down to the base, his throat tightening around his length, getting him slick before pulling off and tucking Harry back into his pants.

“Zayn….. why would you do that, don’t be such a tease,” Harry whined, his weight pushing back into the driver seat as Zayn wiped over his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You need a little teaser of what’s to come later. I love keeping my man on edge.” He smiled, leaning in and biting at Harry’s earlobe. 

As soon as Harry had the car parked in their garage and had rushed Zayn inside (they barely kept off each other in the lift up to their floor, their hands wandering and grabbing at unnecessary, restrictive clothing. Zayn wanted Harry naked as soon as possible, and the feeling was clearly mutual), he was backing Zayn up against the door, pushing his body into the cool wood. Harry moved to slot a leg between Zayn’s thighs as he crowded up against him, their lips slick and hurried whilst they kissed.

Zayn refused to let Harry get control of the situation and started pushing him backwards towards the bedroom. They only made it half way, though; Harry grew impatient and honestly, so did Zayn, they didn’t have the time to make it all the way to the back of their apartment. 

Zayn figured fucking on the couch wasn’t half as romantic as laying Harry out on the bed and giving it to him slowly, but it was quite like them to be frantic and pushy when it came to sex.

Harry yanked on the front of Zayn’s shirt, pulling him on top of Harry as he collapsed back into the couch cushions. Harry was a moaning, groaning mess as Zayn sloppily kissed him, their tongues sliding together frantically as Harry pushed his hips up in need of friction and attention.

“Zayn, come on, been waiting for you for so long,” Harry whined, a shrill sound leaving him when Zayn latched down on the side of his neck and sucked a harsh love bite into his pale skin. Zayn tried to distract Harry whilst he carefully unbuttoned both of their rather expensive dress shirts and Harry pulled Zayn to his chest as soon as they were both shirtless. The skin on skin contact after being so worked up left Harry moaning into Zayn’s mouth, his legs wrapping around Zayn’s hips to keep him grounded to Harry. 

Harry was a mess when Zayn thumbed over one of his nipples, his other hand making quick work of the button on Harry’s jeans and pulling the fly. Zayn absently noted that Harry had gone commando, something he hadn’t realised earlier when they were in the car. To show how much he approved of the action, Zayn leant away from Harry’s mouth to bite at his nipple, first sucking one into his mouth and applying slight pressure with his teeth before moving to the other. Harry was bucking uselessly into the space between them, his cock flushed and leaking pre come obscenely onto his stomach. 

Harry grabbed a fistful of Zayn’s hair and gently tried to push him down to where he needed the release. Zayn wanted to draw it out for Harry, be a bit of a tease, but he figured that he had done enough through the night and should probably let his boyfriend get off. He roughly tugged Harry’s jeans off the rest of the way and threw them on the floor absently.

Zayn kissed and nipped his way down Harry’s torso, slipping further down the couch to accommodate him, stopping at Harry’s hip bones to suck dark bruises into the skin (Zayn liked to see Harry spread out and naked for him covered in marks that Zayn put there and nobody else got to see. He loved pressing into the marks the next day to watch Harry shiver and whine a little). When Harry whimpered out Zayn’s name, he gave it up and slowly turned his head to lick up the pre come collected at Harry’s leaking slit. Zayn sighed happily whilst Harry groaned, the fist holding Zayn’s hair pulling roughly. Zayn wasted no time with teasing now, getting too eager himself with Harry whining so nicely for him. 

Zayn took Harry’s length down easily, gagging himself deliciously on Harry’s cock. Zayn loved the stretch of his mouth and ache of his jaw as he bobbed his head languidly, stopping every now and then to take his cock down as far as he could. Zayn pulled off entirely, spit running down his chin and his eyes wet as he replaced his mouth with his hand to jack Harry off. 

“Zayn, please, please I’m not gonna last,” Harry whimpered, his hips lifting slightly off the couch to slip his cock easily through Zayn’s weak hold. “Wan’ you to fuck me, yeah? Please baby.” He continued, moving the arm that was haphazardly thrown over his eyes so he could stare at Zayn hungrily. 

“How do you ask nicely, Harry?” Zayn requested, his fist slowing to an almost stop on Harry’s dick, causing the younger boy to moan out helplessly. Zayn pushed the forearm of his free arm over Harry’s hips when he tried to buck up into the touch. Zayn gripped the base of his cock tightly in retaliation of him not answering Zayn.

“God, Zayn, please. Please fuck me, I need it, Zayn, please.” Harry whined needily, his voice breaking off when Zayn removed his arm from Harry’s hips to push two of his fingers into Harry’s mouth. Harry groaned eagerly, his eyes fluttering as he laved his tongue around the pads of Zayn’s fingers, getting them slick with his spit. Zayn’s cock was aching in his own jeans. He could feel the zip on his fly press into the hardness of his cock and he wanted so badly to give it some relief, but he refrained. 

“Such a good boy, Harry. Of course I will, babe, since you asked so prettily.” Zayn removed his fingers from Harry’s mouth and delicately traced one over his hole. Zayn bent over Harry to kiss him thoroughly, his teeth biting into the soft plumpness of Harry’s lower lip. Harry moaned into his mouth as Zayn sunk a single finger into him easily, Harry’s hole still slightly stretched from when Zayn had fingered him in the shower that morning. 

Harry bit roughly into Zayn’s jaw as he added a second finger, easing them in and out of him slowly. Zayn made a point of barely brushing over Harry’s prostate with every twist of his fingers, keeping Harry whining lowly in the back of his throat.

“I bet you could come just from this, couldn’t ya, Haz? Have you been gagging for it all night?” Harry could barely let out a nod and Zayn noticed that he was twisting one of his nipples between his fingers, Harry’s eyes tightly screwed shut whilst Zayn scissored him open. “You were so good, sitting at the table so nicely whilst I teased you,” Zayn praised and rubbed a finger over Harry’s prostate as means of reward.

Harry canted into the touch, his breath coming out short at the brief stimulation. With no warning, Harry abruptly whined and came over his stomach, his cock untouched and Zayn’s fingers buried deep inside him, the fingers tugging at his nipples pulling it taut in surprise.

Zayn was mildly shocked to say the least. He knew he’d worked Harry up something awful, but not to the point where he’d be able to come just from Zayn’s fingers. Zayn begun to ease out of Harry, not wanting him to be over stimulated and sore, but Harry bared down on Zayn’s fingers, clenching around him tightly to keep him in place.

“No…. no no, still want you to fuck me, babe,” Harry pouted, his breath coming out short and making the curls that dropped down to his forehead puff out. “Just gimme a sec, give me a kiss, yeah?” Harry requested, his eyes still tightly closed, his thighs gently shaking around Zayn. 

Zayn grinned and was more than happy to comply. He shuffled around on his knees until he could bend over Harry and kiss him properly, the two fingers deep inside Harry slowly moving inside him to keep him interested. 

Zayn didn’t realise Harry was stroking his fingers through the mess of come on his belly until Harry was leaning away from Zayn, his eyes bright as he brought his come-covered fingers up to Zayn’s lips. Zayn licked at them eagerly and parted his lips when Harry pushed past them to get into Zayn’s mouth. Zayn sucked Harry’s spunk off of him, enjoying the salty sweet tang of it. Zayn couldn’t help moving his fingers inside of Harry again whilst he lapped between Harry’s fingers, chasing the taste of him until it was gone. Harry withdrew his hand and leaned back in to kiss Zayn all over again. 

Harry sighed contentedly as Zayn wrapped a hand around his cock and slipped a third finger inside him. Harry wriggled at the over stimulation but didn’t complain, already fattening up at the attention Zayn was giving him. 

“You’re such a good boy, Harry. My good boy, yeah? Are you gonna come for me twice tonight?” He bit at the lobe of Harry’s ear, tugging it between his teeth before pulling away. Harry simply nodded and grabbed for the bottle of lube they kept stuffed between the couch cushions for times like this. 

“Zayn, please, m’ ready now, want you to fuck me,” Harry moaned, his hips reflexively moving of their own accord to fuck Harry further down onto Zayn’s fingers. Zayn nodded and pulled out, watching in slight awe as Harry’s hole fluttered around nothing, just waiting for Zayn to slide into him. 

Zayn jumped up to pull off his jeans and pants, watching whilst Harry quickly uncapped the bottle of lube and loaded a handful into his palm. Harry whined when he saw Zayn naked, hard cock flushed and aching with how much he wanted Harry. Zayn quickly crawled back onto him, sitting on his knees to get into position. Harry reached down and slathered Zayn’s dick with the lube he had squeezed out and promptly lifted his knees to his chest, revealing himself to Zayn.

“Fuck, Haz, you’re so beautiful.” Zayn swore, holding his cock in hand as he gently rubbed the head over Harry’s hole. Harry tipped his head back for a moan, his hips shifting forward to try and get Zayn inside him.

Zayn appeased him, slowly sliding in until his hips met Harry’s ass. He stilled as he felt Harry adjust to the size of him. Harry nodded frantically after a second, his hips rolling down to take Zayn as deep as possible and Zayn let out a low grunt. 

His first thrusts were slow and purposeful, the head of his cock brushing over Harry’s prostate just for the way Harry arched his neck back to moan unashamedly. After a while, though, Zayn needed more, and he found himself pushing into Harry faster and harder. The couch was getting sweaty and slick from the push and pull of their bodies, but Zayn didn’t particularly mind. And with the way Harry was fucking himself down on Zayn’s cock and spreading his legs as far apart as possible, Zayn guessed Harry didn’t mind so much either.

Zayn changed the angle slightly and pushed down on the backs of Harry’s thighs, making Harry’s bent legs almost touch his chest. Zayn started to fuck him deeper, Harry’s thighs trembling as Zayn moved slightly so he could work a fist over Harry’s cock. Harry whined lowly, a string of Zayn’s name leaving his mouth when Zayn fucked him just right and twisted his fingers over Harry’s dick in time to his thrusts.

“God, babe, I’m gonna – gonna come, keep going like that,” Harry panted, his back arching even though he had nowhere to go. Zayn bent over him, making Harry’s knees press into his chest. Harry’s face screwed up at how deep Zayn got in this position. When Zayn licked over Harry’s lower lip and told him to “come for me, Harry,” he did, making another lot of mess over his chest and Zayn’s fist. 

Zayn followed shortly after him, a few more thrusts into Harry and he was coming with Harry’s name groaned out into the quiet of the flat. 

Zayn thought, belatedly, that he shouldn’t press all his weight into Harry so soon after coming, but he couldn’t stop the way his body slumped and naturally melded into Harry’s chest, regardless of the mess between them.

Harry was panting but gaining control of his breathing as he carded his fingers through Zayn’s hair. Zayn turned to kiss him languidly as means of a distraction as he pulled out of Harry, making the younger boy hiss slightly. Zayn kissed him through it, though, with hands on either side of Harry’s face, stroking down his jaw to the column of his neck.

“What a mess,” Harry sighed as he adjusted their positions to accommodate them both comfortably on the couch. Harry reached behind them to grab one of the many blankets he kept around the flat and draped it over them. “You sure know how to treat a man.” 

“Happy three month anniversary, love.” Zayn smiled as he pecked the underside of Harry’s jaw, snuggling into his chest to sleep.

“If this is the sex I get at three months, I can’t wait to see what happens at six, and then nine, and then twelve, and then …” Harry continued on, counting up the months he undoubtedly knew they had together to share.

Zayn fell asleep with a smile on his face, cocooned by the limbs of one Harry Styles. His Harry Styles. And nothing felt better than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you read all 11k words of this mess, thank you for sticking with it. i hope whoever i wrote this for enjoyed it :~)


End file.
